Displacement
by AnonymousInsomnia
Summary: Ever since the Battle of Beacon, Ruby Rose has always wanted her life to return to some semblance of normality. After getting stuck in a place that seems absolutely perfect- no Grimm, no one's crippled or dead- maybe she could start over for once? Maybe, after all, just this once, everyone could live? Eh, it's probably not gonna happen, but a Huntress can dream, right?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY. Any resemblance or mention to existing properties is part of the fic, a reference, or just something that I thought would be cool to include. Also, this fic is inspired by Chris7221's Divergence/Convergence works, and I would like to say he/she, but probably he, does a fine job.**

 _Hatred will sprout_

 _Suspicion and doubt_

 _Friendships deny_

 _While allegiances die_

 **RWBY Volume 3 Soundtrack - Divide**

* * *

I really thought the day couldn't get any more dull. Then again, maybe things would change for once in a long while.

My name is Ruby Rose. I am- _was_ \- a Huntress-in-training at Beacon Academy. That's kinda like an advanced technical school for awesome, monster-killing mercenaries, and I was probably the youngest one there. I mean, I did manage to get in two years early by impressing the headmaster, which was nice, but I felt like a square peg fitting in a round hole going to _very_ prestigious academy prematurely.

However, Beacon was kind of utterly destroyed when some... _despicable_ people came in and utterly destroyed the hopes and dreams of the some-1500 students at the institution. Long story short, they did some bad things, and now we were looking for them, and for answers. We'd come from the lonely island of Patch, west of the city of Vale, where we left my sister, Yang Xiao Long, and my dad, Taiyang Xiao Long behind. As much as I hated myself for abandoning them, this was importance exemplified compared to Yang's soul-crushing broken spirit. Maybe after we got to Haven Academy in the Kingdom of Mistral, they'd have the CCT back up and running and I could apologize to them face-to-face.

I was alone in the City of Mistral. Okay, no. That's not it. I was _mostly_ alone in the City of Mistral, with only Jaune Arc, one of my only friends from Beacon Academy, with me as a companion. Now, don't get me wrong, he's nice and all, but he's kind of a klutz (and this is coming from _me_ , of all people. Heck, I blew up Beacon's courtyard on my first day from a sneeze). His remaining teammates, Nora Valkyrie and Lie Ren, were off doing their own thing. I never really wanted to intrude, but it was probably something to do with how they were, "not together-together," as Nora tended to put it with her and Ren.

Jaune and I were out job hunting. Yeah, not exactly the most glamourous thing that one could do in the coastal port city of Mistral, but what could you do when you were a group of misfit hunstmen-in-training with no school and no money? However, prospective employers were stingier than mean-spirited bankers. Apparently, students from Beacon weren't exactly trustworthy, given that they were apparently prone to break people's limbs and kill random strangers. Understandable, sure, but nonetheless, I wasn't exactly happy about it.

"Well, I'm sorry about this, but I don't really need the help of Huntsmen students right now." The manager wasn't particularly sleazy-looking, at least not as much as some other, unhappy, employers that they had gone to for a job. He was an average person in all senses possible. Average height, average complexion, average wardrobe taste. He ran a nervous hand through his green hair. His name tag read "Redd". "Ya really don't need to be here, though. We have lotsa workers around here. We're good on the whole employment-needed front."

I hung my head, immensely just _tired_ at the fact that we couldn't get a job from the almost-literal rock bottom-est place ever. Heck, we even joked that Sanderson's Deli Meats and Cheeses was literally like the worst place ever to eat lunch. Of all time. So now, even they were denying _us_? I was just too weary of all the rejection we faced. Too many people telling us to "get lost, before you break someone's ankles or something," or "don't try to bring your bad luck from Vale to us," was doing nothing for our journey. We weren't even close to getting answers or justice, and our empty stomachs from walking around and chasing shadows wasn't helping our collective vibe. To be honest, I wanted to curl up into a little ball and cry until my problems went away. I settled to falling silent and drooping like a thirsty flower in my sullen atitude.

Jaune was not so easily broken. "What?! What in the hell are you talking about?! We saw a freaking 'Help Wanted' sign when we walked in!" He was right about that. It was bright crimson, like spilled blood, contrasted with white as white as snow, you couldn't miss it.

"Sorry, dude," Redd replied, not willing to look the two of us in the eye, "That must'a been like a clerical error, or somethin'."

"That's bullsh-"

I quickly snatched him back by his hood, as soon as I heard my cue. "Language! Jaune, there are children here," I sternly told him. It was true. Sanderson's marketed itself as a family restaurant with a highly aggressive ad campaign. As a result, no matter how repulsively dull their deli sandwiches and burgers tended to be, kids dragged their parents along to the restaurant like a miser drew wagons full of money to the bank. The children in question had started staring at us. Their looks of puzzlement and wonder at our fairly... exciting choice of clothing and weapons was more than enough to make me uncomfortable.

I have never had much luck socializing. I had the social skills of a perpetually miffed caveman, and it tended to show. Heck, my first friend at Beacon was... Jaune. Who was a compressed spring of rage at the moment. Jaune gave me a pointed glare that could set a patch of wet grass ablaze.

"We're leaving," I told him, even more sternly. He seemed to come to his senses, relaxing, albeit more than a bit reluctant to.

"Fine," he replied, with enough bitterness to make a cup of dark brew green with envy. He stormed off, and shut the front door to the establishment with the bang of a gunshot. I gave Redd a look that I hoped was as apologetic as I felt.

* * *

"That piece of crap! That good-for-nothing _asshole_!"

I winced at Jaune's swearing. That wasn't really a good habit for him to pick up. Dad always told me, "A foul mouth eats foul food." He wasn't really the best at metaphors, but I kind of got what he was saying: if you live a vulgar life, you won't live the way you want to, not without some difficulty.

"Jaune, it's not like to you to be so _angry_ all the time," I said, emphasizing the word angry. "Come on, let's go get some ice cream, or something. Maybe that'll do the trick."

Jaune let out a huff of indignance before letting his hands, which were curled into fists, fall to his sides. We had all taken running away from home in a... less-than-luxurious fashion, and we all had some sort of grime buildup on our garments. Jaune's comparatively mundane outfit had taken the worst of it. His black hoodie was darkened _and_ lightened in places from sweat and dirt and his shoulder pauldrons and chestplate were tarnished and dented from heavy use. His normally-patchwork jeans were even more ripped in places, and his gloves were badly wrinkled and just plain dirty. His blonde hair was unkempt, and his eyes possessed bags that you could carry groceries in. But I don't imagine that my own appearance was much better.

He at least relaxed somewhat when I suggested ice cream. "Yeah, maybe that's the ticket. Who knows? Maybe we'll find a shop that will service us. And maybe they'll have cookies, don't'cha think?" I, myself, perked up at the suggestion. Jaune could read me just as well as I could read him, sometimes. That's just kind of what happens between friends, you know?

"Alright! Let's go!" I dashed off, barely noticing the crimson rose petals following in my wake, and Jaune's distant "Hey!" of annoyance. "I'll meet you at the Bask in Robinson's on Creek Avenue!" Ren had made us memorize the map of the city when we arrived here, so I was pretty sure of the way to the sweets shop. I felt bad for leaving Jaune, but cookies couldn't wait on anybody! I love them; I live them. They're my favorite food, besides strawberries, so _of course_ I would get a great bowlful of the heavenly snack before anyone else did! It was off to the races! Maybe I would even catch the owner in a good mood, and he would give me an extra portion!

I sprinted through the afternoon rush-hour crowd, and convinced myself that Jaune might be there, waiting for me, as I stretched my legs and semblance for the first time in a good, long while.

* * *

Okay, I didn't quite make it to the dessert shop.

"Why do they have to make these roads so hard to follow, anyway?" I wondered aloud. Mistvan was like a maze, and I had gotten lost in its winding and confusing avenues and crossroads like a rat would in search of cheese. The sky had grown dark, and twilight started to spread a subdued orange afterglow in the night. The sadly shattered mirror of a moon hung low in the sky, casting an equally subdued, pale glow upon the city. However, the buildings cast shadows all around me, and I had to squint and strain my eyes in order to catch even the barest glint of light to navigate by with.

There weren't many pedestrians still up and about; the only people that I'd seen at this hour were an older couple, neither of whom seemed to be in the conversing mood. They had shied away from me, and quickly jogged off before they could come within earshot of my voice. I guess the public opinion of Huntresses was still pretty bad.

I walked along, sullenly. Heck, I couldn't even use my scroll to call Jaune and the others, since the CCT was still down. The "ultimate innovative breakthrough in international communication" admittedly wasn't designed very well. I mean, who makes anything where if one little part goes awry, it kills the entire system?

Now, was it a left at Baker Street, or a right? I considered taking a Lien coin from my pocket and flipping it, but that might not be wise in the dark like this-

" _Ruby! Ruby, where are you?_ " What the-? I jerked my head to the direction of the voice that called my name. I started to call out for that person when I saw a person who, by no possible explanation, was there, in the middle of Mistvan City.

My half-sister, Yang Xiao Long, stood at the other end of the boulevard, across from me. Her bright golden locks were easy to pick out from the drab, dreary gray of the buildings around her, and her pale skin shone like silver in the moonlight. I couldn't make out her clothes or anything, but somehow, I _knew_ it was her. Call it sister's intuition, but there was not a way on Remnant that that wasn't Yang. I mean, not a lot of people have a mane that goes down to their thighs, right?

"Yang? What are you doing here?" I called to her, but she didn't seem to hear me. Instead, she plodded along the sidewalk and ducked into a nearby alley. I put on a burst of my semblance, leaving behind more rose petals as I ran doggedly after my sister, like a missile homing in on a target. In a matter of a couple of seconds, I had reached the alley she had disappeared down into, but saw no sign of her. "Yang?!" I called out, hoping for a response.

I got one.

A low, guttural growl was my only response as a dark shape leapt from underneath a couple of cardboard boxes and piles of refuse in the stygian backstreet, and I soon came face-to-muzzle with a pitch-black furred monster with bone plating and a bone mask, its sun-bleached-looking visor crisscrossed with a small network of blood-red, glowing markings. Its eyes glowed a bright orange as it glared daggers of doom down at me, spelling out that this creature would be my doom. It towered over me, humanoid in posture alone, and bringing with it a stance of pure aggression.

A creature of Grimm blocked my way.

A Beowolf, to be exact. Well, to be even more exact, an _Alpha_ Beowolf. This was a problem. This was definitely a problem. Not so much a "oh no, did I leave the bathroom window open?" problem, but more of an "oh, crap! There's a creature of complete dark soullessness that is looking at me as I would a particularly tasty shish-kebab!" problem. Well, this is what I'd trained for, at least.

I reached behind my back, and felt a familiar, ice-cool touch of a particularly hefty object. I quickly unhooked a large, scarlet, irregularly shaped object from my concealed weapons holster, and just as rapidly, flicked a couple of switches hidden along its slender body. It unfolded with a series of clicks and pops- as though someone was cracking their knuckles, or maybe cranking a stubborn windup toy- into a huge blade with a double-edged, menacing, curved blade.

This was my weapon, Crescent Rose. I had poured hard work, sweat, tears, and other body fluids into its construction back at Signal Academy. It was also a highly customized sniper rifle, with all the bells and whistles I could ask for: a compact, high powered scope, and an insane 20-round Dust magazine collection. I had modeled mine after my Uncle Qrow's own, really _really_ cool sword-gun-scythe thing. Come to think of it, he never actually told me what he'd named it...

I was distracted from my train of thought when a deadly claw attempted to rip my face into little bits of shredded cheese. Isn't it rude when that happens? I raised Crescent Rose upwards, perpendicular to the ground, and parried with no small amount of effort. The beast's claw pressed onwards, determined to push its stinking, razor-sharp nails into my flesh. I deflected its arm downwards with a twirl of my weapon and pivoted on the ball of my right foot. With a spin, I entered its guard, and swung my scythe in a wide, vertical arc.

It wasn't very effective. The monster simply raised its arms in a cross-block over its bone-topped skull and managed to avoid to worst of my strike. However, my weapon did manage to do _something_ , in the very least. The tip of its blade dug into the bony helm, and a spiderweb of cracks appeared over the surface of the plates like damaged glass. It snarled, and pushed outwards, freeing my scythe from its skull. Black blood spurted from the wound like a miniature fountain, and it roared in agony, cradling its head in its claws.

Now was my chance! I swung Crescent Rose high and as wide as I could in the cramped space and brought it crashing down like a guillotine through the creature, using a Dust bullet to augment the blow. I yelled triumphantly when my scythe cleaved its arm off. Even better, the inertia of the strike forced the scythe's blade into its body through what I assume was its clavicle, and buried the tip perhaps a foot into its flesh. It positively _screeched_ with fury, but it was already too late for it. I pulled Crescent Rose's trigger, and with a cry of defiance, adrenaline coursing through my veins, wrenched the blade from its body. My creation tore through pitch-dark flesh and arteries like a knife through bread. Bones snapped and parted outwards, their gruesome shards peppering my face. I closed my eyes and averted my gaze. Though my aura made the shrapnel more of a nuisance than a threat, it still stung.

That was my mistake. The beast lashed out, determined to take me with it, even though it was now doomed. It was pretty intelligent, though, taking advantage of my momentary bout of weakness. I felt an impact, then a slow, burning heat in my midsection. I gasped in pain as something _tore_ at my insides. My eyes shot open, and I looked down at my body, finding a great, muscled claw embedded in it. My throat burned, and I spat something metallic from my mouth. _Crap_.

At least the Grimm wasn't in any condition to hurt anyone else, if the smoke billowing off its decaying vessel was any indication of its coming doom. For a tense second, its eyes met mine. I stared its burning orbs down. Heck if I wasn't going to go down with tears flowing down my face and in despair, or something. There came a time in every Huntsman's life where he or she must stare down death in the face. I wasn't going to face it like a scared little girl. Although I did feel a bit sick. My stomach turned itself over, and I turned my head to the side, hurling chunks of half-digested food that burned like fire and scraped like sandpaper against my throat.

After what felt like hours, the evil wolf's form finally evaporated- and with it, the claw that had embedded itself in my chest. I didn't realize just how much my body was relying on the thing for balance, and I tumbled collapsed on my back. My mind felt hazy. Dimly, I could hear Crescent Rose fall from my numb fingers, and as my vision faded, I thought I could hear someone else yelling.

"Da...! All... Am...Lance..."

And I blacked out.

* * *

 **AN: Yeah, I know. I would just like to know... that I suck. And that I'm a girl. And I like ribbons in my hair. And I want to kiss all the boys. But no. Seriously. I hate myself too for starting a new thing without updating my older ones, and frankly, I'm probably gonna do it again. But to be honest, my editor is still not getting back to me about Rose Falls, and I'm really not feeling up to continuing ATTHFT, but it'll get done eventually. But for now, I'm thinkin... Dresden Files?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY. Any resemblance or mention to existing properties is part of the fic, a reference, or just something that I thought would be cool to include.** **Also, this fic is inspired by Chris7221's Divergence/Convergence works, and I would like to say he/she, but probably he, does a fine job.**

 _And on that day, I made a vow_

 _Whispered and true_

 _No matter what, no matter how_

 _I made this promise to you_

 _I will cling, I will clutch_

 _I'll hold onto you, I won't turn away_

 _I won't leave, I won't go_

 _I will stay with you all our days_

 **RWBY Volume 2 Soundtrack - All Our Days**

* * *

 _...Recovered remarkably well..._

 _...Lucky to be alive..._

 _...She could possibly not wake for a long time..._

I heard voices. To whom they belonged? No idea. In my mind, I swam in a pool of black ink, unfeeling and weightless as a plucked feather.

 _...The injuries were very severe. The blood loss alone..._

 _...She's my daughter! Isn't there anything you can do?!..._

There! A light was emerging from above my void. It shone like a spotlight, and dully, I reached out for it, my ethereal fingers just managing to grasp its warmth. The light began to envelop me, and eventually, all I saw was blinding white.

Abruptly, all my senses came back online. Well, not all of them. I couldn't see a thing- only white. I _did_ hear a soft beeping sound; maybe a metronome? My skin felt light, airy sheets and some sort of paper-thin garb. I smelled chemicals, and a reeking stench of alcohol- not the drinking kind, the rubbing kind. My tongue was positively stuck to the roof of my mouth, and it felt dry as a desert. I tried to move my jaw, but it was immobilized. There was a pressure at my chin. A hand was keeping it there, then.

"Well her eyes look normal enough, so no brain damage here," a voice said. Higher-pitched, and annoyed. Female. I heard a click, and my eye was suddenly free of the strange light. My jaw was relieved, too. "Happy?"

"Fine, but I'm not happy about this," came another voice, this one deeper, equally annoyed, and resigned. Masculine.

My eye focused, and I gazed upon a tiled ceiling. White panels and a dull silver frame. With what felt like titanic effort, I cracked open my other eye. I groaned, and sat up, using my elbows for leverage. My vision was slightly blurred, but I could make out the figures of a blonde man wearing a grey shirt and jeans, and a woman with a long white coat, and one of those heartbeat-hearing things that you see medics and physicians use. A doctor, maybe?

The pair immediately fell silent. Then the blonde man spoke.

"Hey, doc," he said. "Didn't you say it would at least take another few hours for her to wake up from something like that?" What?

"Yes. That's what's supposed to happen, but..." the doctor, as she evidently _was_ one, replied. She turned her attention to me, all professional-like and stuff. "How are you feeling?" she asked me, carefully enunciating the words.

 _I'm fine_ , I slurred. At least, that's what I tried to say. It probably sounded something like "Irr Finnn." _Dang,_ my throat was parched. I looked to my left, and spotted an empty glass. I pointed to it with one hand, and gestured to my mouth with the other.

"Oh! You're thirsty!" the blonde remarked, perhaps a little enthusiastically. I could see him reach behind his back for something. "Here," he said. He held out a clear cylinder to me, but seemed to think better of it. He pulled it back, twisting his off hand around the top of it, which seemed to uncap it, and held it out to me. I greedily grabbed it, and gulped down mouthfuls of cool, refreshing water. "Hey! Maybe not so fast, there!"

"Too late, sir, she's drowning in a desert over there," dryly remarked the doctor. I ignored her, and finished off the dregs of water from the plastic bottle. I let out a sigh of relief, and allowed myself to fall back into a more relaxed position in the bed. The doc leaned over me, and quickly moved her heartbeat-thing under my gown, probably to check my pulse. "Easy now, don't want to agitate those stitches, Ruby. Let me know if you feel any pain, and breathe slowly and evenly," she said, nice and professional-like.

"How do you know my name?" I asked.

"Your father over there told me," she replied. She meant the blonde man, I supposed. My eyesight was still poor, but I could make out some features on the man's face. Sure enough, it was my dad, Taiyang. I felt relieved, seeing a familiar face, but how was he in the city with me? The man in question gave me a thumbs up in acknowledgement, and a smile, if the flash of white in the middle of his face was anything to go by. I returned my attention to the doctor, who by now was finished checking my pulse.

"Alright, I'm going to check up on your stitches, okay?" she said.

"Oh! Sure," I replied. Just a harmless little check, right? Sure, the Grimm opened up my chest, but my Aura should have repaired the damage by now. Come to think of it, why did my Aura just let the claw in in the first place? It should have stopped it. Then again, I was _super_ tired from the journey and had nothing to eat that day, but then agai-

I yelped as a breeze hit my chest. My _bare_ chest. My felt my face grow warm and fought down childish panic. _Don't worry, Ruby. She's just checking the wounds. How else would she do it anyway?_ I closed my eyes and waited for the doctor to give a diagnosis, probably in that weird doctor-speak that medical professionals tend to use.

And waited. And waited. I cracked open an eye to find both my dad and the doc stiff as a pair of reeds. I think their mouths were hanging open, speechless. I couldn't comprehend why, though, as when I looked down at myself, everything had healed up, just as normal.

"Bu-but that's not possible..." the doctor was a stuttering mess. My father was just a statue in the corner of the room.

Finally, he collected himself enough to move over to the doctor. He whispered a few things in her ear and the two left my room.

"Maybe you should get some rest," I heard Taiyang say, then in a voice he probably thought was too small for me to hear, a voice filled with disbelief and world-weariness, "Maybe we all need some rest..."

* * *

Hours later, I still laid there on the stark white mattress in a stark white room. It had grown dark, so there was no more natural light dripping in from the shut blinds, and the hospital appeared to have gone after-hours and dimmed the lights so that the patients could sleep. I'd bet that they were all slumbering soundly, engrossed in whatever peaceful dreams their idle brains could conjure. But not me.

I was still awake tonight; I was still trying to figure out why everyone was acting so weird. Dad sounded way too stressed out and tired, but I kinda expected that at this point anyway. No, what had me up was the way the doc had frozen up when she examined me. Why did she do that? Aura healing a purely physical wound within a day or two wasn't unheard of, so why did she look so surprised?

I sighed and placed my hands beneath my head as a makeshift pillow. Worrying about it all night wasn't going to do me any good, and neither would losing sleep about it help. My teammate, Blake Belladonna, had done the same thing back at Beacon in our second semester, and she couldn't get anything done until we'd managed to talk her out of her routine. I closed my eyes and tried to get some sleep in while I still could. Maybe my refreshed mind could figure out some answers in the morning...

I'd barely closed my eyes when three knocks on my room's door signaled someone's approach.

"It's open, I think," I called irritably. The heavy wood door creaked open at a snail's pace before a figure walked in. It was a girl. From the blurry colors, I guessed that she had a pair of jeans and a simple, black t-shirt with some weird design on it. However, what caught my eye was the shade of gold her hair took on, as well as its ridiculous length. Only one person I knew of could be associated with me _and_ have that kind of hair.

Yang.

She rushed to my bedside, placing a hand over my forehead. "You feeling alright? The doctor said you'd just be waking up by the time I got here." Satisfied with my temperature, she removed her hand from my head and pulled up a skeletal metal chair. It made a harsh scrape as it slid across the hard floor. "Dad told me that you woke up when he was here, about three hours ago. He seemed really spooked by something."

"I'm fine, well except for my eyes," I replied as nonchalantly as I could.

"Wait, what is it about your eyes?!" Yang demanded, jostling my bed in her excitement, concern flowing like water over her words.

"It's just that they're kinda blurry," I answered, flinching at her forcefulness. I guess my nerves were still shot from my fight with the Alpha Beowolf. "Maybe it's a reaction from the drugs for the surgery and my aura?" Cases like that were unheard of, but not wholly impossible. I think Dad talked about how a Huntsman he knew was once shot in the stomach by a gangster and forgot how to say "thank you" for about an entire day.

"Aura?" Yang said, sounding... puzzled? "You into that new age spiritualism or something, sis?"

"What are you talking about?" I was confused and about to ask what Yang meant, but she pressed a finger to my lips.

"I know how much of a free spirit you are, so I won't tell Dad. This'll be our little secret, ok?" I nodded. "Now I'm gonna get a snack from the vending machine down the hall. You want anything?"

"See if they have any cookies," I said. She gave me a quick thumbs-up, and retreated through the door, making sure to close it quietly. I laid down on my mattress and fixed my gaze upon the bumpy, whitewashed ceiling of my room. What did Yang mean? New age spearo- what?

Whatever. I could wait to ask Yang when she got back.

* * *

I waited. And waited. It felt like hours, but the rational part of my mind told me it was probably something like 30 minutes or so. Eventually, I just gave up on waiting. With a grunt of effort, I pushed myself off my bed and planted my underused feet onto the cold marble ground. With shaky steps, I made my way to the door. Surely getting something from the vending machine couldn't be taking this long, could it? I dunno, maybe Yang got turned around somewhere.

I'll pop my head out into the hall. Maybe she'll hear me, and-

"AAAAAAAAHHHH!"

Holy crap, was that Yang? I had to get out there, now! She could be in danger!

I grasped the doorknob in my trembling hand, and twisted, yet it didn't budge an inch. I growled in frustration, but quickly collected myself. An angry Ruby wouldn't be very useful. I took a few steps backwards and took a few deep breaths before I drew deep into my very being- my soul, if you will- and activated my Semblance.

See, Semblances are the abilities caused by the presence of our Auras, which are manifestations of our souls. Naturally, many young Huntsmen learn very early on to use their Semblances in a way that reaches deep down into their souls as the most effective method of using their abilities.

My mind and sight instantly cleared as the world seemed to slow. I charged forward, quick as lightning, and shoulder charged the locked door. It gave way with a rending screech and several metallic snaps as the lock and a hinge were destroyed. The door itself, now sporting a Ruby-shaped dent, swung loudly into the plaster wall to its right. The wall was chipped now, and pieces of it littered the ground near the door. The racket it made was sure to wake even the dead.

But I didn't care. I sprinted at full tilt towards the source of the scream, leaving behind what was sure to be a whirlwind of crimson rose petals in my wake.

* * *

I ran, and ran, and ran, until finally my search rounded a corner and I saw, in the dim illumination from the vending machine's lightbulb, a man, dressed in black and wearing a ski mask towering over my sister, who appeared to be cowering in the corner, staring at a small, black object gripped in the man's right fist. I skidded to a halt to stop my forward momentum, and charged.

"YAAAARRGH!" I yelled as I slammed my shoulder into the unknown man.

"OOOUUFF!" he grunted as I could hear bones creak and snap and joints pop painfully. He flew backwards into the vending machine, shattering the glass window into a shower of clear shrapnel. The lightbulb went out with the _pop!_ of a blown fuse, and the machine's frame bent inwards. That guy was gonna be feeling that in the morning. I gave a cursory glance at the floor, and found the man's object. As I expected, it was a small black pistol, something intended to spring a surprise.

I scrambled to the ground for it, and clenched it tight in my own fist. Quickly, I dropped the magazine and counted the bullets. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven rounds, each less than .40 caliber in size and hollow-pointed. I slammed the mag back into the gun and pulled the slide back a small amount. There was already a gleaming bronze-colored bullet already loaded.

I let the slide fly forward and transferred it to my left hand, training it upon the man's form, and I reached my right hand out to Yang. She gave me a look of confusion, bewilderment, and... fear? After a moment's deliberation, she hauled herself up with what I could see appeared to be two completely flesh-and-blood arms and retreated behind me.

...Wait, two arms? I gave a quick glance behind me to check if I wasn't seeing things. Sure enough, there was an extra limb on her person that I distinctly remembered seeing missing the last time I saw my sister.

"Yang, your arm!" I whisper-shouted to her.

"What about my arm?!" she whisper-shouted back. "Whatever, worry about that later. For now, just focus on that guy!"

"Yeah, OK!" I replied, "Also, could you call the police?"

Yang blinked, before pulling a small, flat rectangular box from her pants, which I could now see were blue jean shorts. As I focused my appropriated firearm on the man's still form, I could see Yang dial a short number and ask someone on the other end for help. It would now just be a matter of time until the authorities arrived.

* * *

A few minutes later, I heard someone shouting from far away. The voices were muffled and urgent, but grew louder. The owners were approaching, then.

"Dude, don't just charge in like that! What if there are..." a masculine voice said.

"What if there are what?" asked another, this one more irritated with the other.

"I dunno, man! Like, demons, or aliens, or zombies; shit like that?!" the former replied, "Everything bad starts to happen in hospitals! Haven't you watched _The Walking Dead_ , or something?"

"Shut your trap! My daughters are in here! What if they're in danger?!" Wait, what? Was that Dad?

"Ruby," Yang whispered from behind me, "I think that's the cops. Our dad's probably with them."

Meanwhile, the man I'd knocked into next month still looked like he wasn't going to budge any time soon, so finally, after several minutes of waiting, I slowly lowered the pistol, allowing myself to relax a bit. I heard the _clop-clop-clopp_ ing of hard rubber boots smacking the ground until two men rounded the corner. One pointed the harsh glare of a _really_ bright flashlight in my face, and I reflexively shielded my eyes with my left forearm.

"HANDS UP! DROP YOUR WEAPON!" one of the gruff voices ordered. I complied. The pistol made a harsh _smack_ against the tile floor as gravity took hold of the object.

"Wait up, Dex," the other voice said. "Dex, get that damn thing out of her face!" The harsh glare removed itself, and I was left blinking as my eyes readjusted to the lack of light in the dark hallway. I saw a blonde mop of hair and a familiar face.

"Dad? Is that you?" I asked.

"Hey, Ruby," he answered. "It's alright. It's ok. It's all over now; you're safe."

"Dad, Rubes kicked his ass. I think you should be reassuring _him_."

"...Is that true?" Oh, right. He was talking to me. I nodded, and he gave me a look before saying, "Sit tight. This will all be over in a minute."

Yang put a hand on my shoulder and gently pushed me to a wall. She sat me down at the base as Dad's friend, Dex, I presumed, draped a heavy blanket over me. Dimly, I felt Yang set herself down next to me, a blanket draped over her body as well. I couldn't think of anything to do- my mind was racing with questions. Things like "why does Yang have two arms?", "why is Dad acting so confused?" and, of course, the usual, "what the heck is going on?!"

* * *

 **AN: Yeah, and that's a wrap, for now. Anyway, Read, Review, Favorite Follow, Yadda, Yadda, you know the damn drill. Thanks. Oh, and I'll try to get my lazy ass in shape later. For now, I've got a shit ton of things that I'll be away from my computer for all this month, and they're not gonna postpone themselves, now are they?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Ugh... Disclaimers suck.**

 **Own[RWBY=0]**

 **1=True, 0=False.**

* * *

 _I know you didn't plan this_

 _You tried to do what's right._

 _But in the middle of this madness_

 _I'm the one you left to win this fight_

 **RWBY Volume 1 Soundtrack - Red Like Roses Part II**

* * *

Dad led me and Yang through the hospital, clutching the both of us in tight hugs and blankets, as if he was afraid that we'd disappear if he let us out of his sight for a while. Yang was shivering and softly weeping, which didn't exactly line up with the Yang I was use to, but then again, I had absolutely no damn idea what the heck was going on anymore. We shambled through the hospital's darkened corridors until we finally reached my room again.

Dad sat me down on the edge of my bed, while Yang shakily moved over to a nearby chair. She flopped into the cushions of the modest furnishing, tugging her blanket tight around her body. Yang's eyes took on a faraway quality, appearing to be staring at something in another dimension. Once Dad was satisfied that I hadn't suffered any visible injuries, he gave a loud sigh of relief and sagged into another chair.

At least that wasn't much different at all from the Dad I knew, anyway. It was almost enough to bring a smile to my face, just seeing him fuss over me, like I was a kid on her first day at Signal.

"Hey, Ruby," he began, "How are you feeling?"

I gave him a disarming smile. "Better. I was having problems seeing anything really clearly at all earlier, but using my Semblance fixed that."

Dad nodded, but he furrowed his eyebrows together. "I'm glad to hear that, Ruby, but would you mind telling me what a Semblance is?"

I raised my own eyebrow at that. "You... You don't know?" I asked.

He shook his head. That... Probably didn't mean anything good. Suddenly, I didn't really feel all that safe around Taiyang Xiao Long and Yang Xiao Long, or at least the people that looked almost exactly like them. I inched my way over the edge of my bed, making my way in between the hospital room's window and the other two occupants of my room.

Hopefully, they wouldn't notice that. My movement could probably be construed as getting into a more comfortable position to explain myself.

"But Dad," I continued, "you, of all people, should know what a Semblance is! You even unlocked mine and Yang's Auras the day we applied to Signal!"

"Uh... I don't remember doing any of that," he turned to Yang. "Do you remember me doing anything like that?" She shook her head in response.

Crap. That didn't sound good.

"Look, Ruby," Dad kept going, "Whatever you've gotten involved with as of late is probably your business, but we're worried about you. All of us. Me, your sister, your uncle, your mother-"

I didn't hear anything past that. My mind just went blank, as it tried to process what my Dad was apparently saying. He told me that my mom was worried about me, but that just wasn't possible.

After all, memories can't worry about the living. And Summer Rose was little more than a memory now. Taiyang Xiao Long was supposed to know that. Yang Xiao Long was supposed to understand that. But they didn't. My eyes widened as I realized what the only logical explanation for this was.

This wasn't my dad, Taiyang Xiao Long, nor was this my sister, Yang Xiao Long. They must've been impostors set up by one of our enemies, out to get us. Who it was didn't matter, just that I had to escape their clutches.

Okay, look. I wasn't exactly thinking in the right frame of mind at the time, alright?

I cast a furtive glance out the hospital room window. It looked to be about a five-story drop. I figured my Aura was about at least 60% back to normal, and I could take that height, no problem. Probably.

The Dad lookalike was still talking, not really looking at anything in particular, and the Yang lookalike was staring at him as he talked. It was almost too perfect, to be honest. I'd expected more out of professionals.

For the second time that night, I triggered my Semblance, hopping off the bed at a breakneck speed and sprinting at the window, hitting the glass in a powerful shoulder-check. My charge nearly pulverized the window and I felt my Aura being pelted with miniscule glass shards as I flew through the air. The aluminum blinds covering the window didn't stand a chance, and parted in halves when faced with my velocity. My body rushed through the city's night sky, and for a few glorious seconds, I felt the freedom that came with using my speed, after quite a long time of roughing it and not getting to cut loose. Soon, I felt gravity return, pulling me back to the ground with its undeniable force.

"RUBY!" I heard from behind me, but I ignored the shout as if it hadn't been there at all, instead focusing solely on my flight.

Right in front of me was a medium-sized apartment building. It wasn't more than a couple of stories lower than my own room, but at the speed I was going, it was low enough. I hit the roof at an inelegant tumble, rather than the dignified roll I was going for, causing me to skid across the uncomfortable concrete. If I hadn't had my Aura to protect me, I would have left behind a mile of scraped skin as a testament to my landing strategy.

"RUBY! ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?! DON'T WORRY, WE'RE COMING TO GET YOU! STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE!" The commanding shout galvanized my paralyzed muscles into action, and I slowly got up, groaning in pain. "HEY! RUBY! WHAT'RE YOU DOING?! JUST STAY THERE, WE'LL COME FOR YOU!" I ignored that one, too, and continued getting up before I was halted by another shout.

"RUBES!" That was Yang's voice. I stopped, but shook my head to clear it, and kept going. I limped (ow, must've pulled something in the fall) to a nearby metal door, and proceeded to kick the thing down. I cringed at the noise it made as it crashed to the floor, and walked inside, ignoring the cries coming from my hospital room.

* * *

I made my way through the apartment complex, floor by floor, as quietly as I could, to keep from disturbing the tenants. There were a few articles of clothing lying about, here and there, hanging from open windows, probably left out to dry by their owners. It was wrong, I knew, but I couldn't just go around in a hospital gown in public, so I found a gray t-shirt with some band name I'd never heard of on it, a pair of khaki cargo shorts, a dark hoodie, and a pair of lady stilts. I dropped that last one in disgust, and quickly found a pair of worn-out sneakers to wear. By the time I'd gotten to the ground floor and into the street, I was presentable, if at least decent enough for walking about.

I shivered in the frigid night air, which was suddenly a lot more chilly than I had remembered it being earlier.

I looked around. The streetlamps were all blazing brightly, so as to ward off the darkness of the night, and the city's buildings were almost all darkened as their occupants checked out for the night. However, I could see one building, among a few others, whose lights were lit up like so many candles, indicating them being open for the night. It _was_ a bit strange to see so many halogen and fluorescent lights instead of the holograms that I was more than used to, but things might be different in whatever part of the city I was in.

I headed to the building, a convenience store, I assumed, due to the fact that it was still open at this late hour, and the fact that through the windows I could see various commodities, like candy bars and chip bags and soda bottles. As I entered, the glass doors slid open automatically and I stepped into the store.

I was hit with a blast of warmed air as soon as I breached the automatic doors, and I basked in it for a little while, savoring the relief from the cold outside on the bare skin of my face, neck, hands, and shins. The cashier behind the register, a young-ish woman with blond hair and blue highlights, slowly chewing gum, gave me a wary sideways glance, before returning to absently poking at a device with a screen (it kinda looked like the older models of Scrolls I'd see some veteran Huntsmen walking around with, with no holographic technology, nor any sort of expanding display).

I looked around the store, eyeing various cheaply made wares, like keychains and postcards, along with rows and rows of junk food, in the form of bags of chips and candy bars, and a squad of refrigerators stood brilliantly at the far end of the store, keeping various bottles of soda and alcohol nice and chilled. I skimmed the aisles, finally choosing a pair of the more healthy-looking granola bars and picking up a tall can of some sort of iced tea from a refrigerator. There was also a heating machine filled with doughnuts, and after a moment of deliberation, I picked out a circle with pink frosting and sprinkles liberally adorning it.

I brought the items to the front of the shop, and the cashier gave me a look before scanning the items and reading off the price of the food I'd wanted.

"That'll be nine dollars and thirty-five cents, miss," she told me. Dollars? What about Lien? What a weird town...

I searched the pockets of my appropriated cargo shorts, looking for the "dollars" in question. I found a paper note in my back pocket, labeled "TWENTY DOLLARS". I handed it to the cashier, who nodded and opened the register, pulling out more paper notes, instead of the neat plastic Lien cards I was used to, along with some metal coins. She did it with extreme slowness and laziness, as if she absolutely didn't care about doing her job efficiently.

She was so "absorbed" within her work and her old Scroll that she didn't notice another person coming through the door. I noticed him in my peripheral vision- a young guy wearing dark clothes and a hoodie, like mine, except his hood was pulled up to cover his head. His hands were in his pockets, and his gaze kept sweeping left and right, back and forth, which looked mighty suspicious, to be honest. I ignored him, though, as the cashier had finally finished sorting out my change.

"Here's your change-" she managed to say, before the guy barged in, shoving me down to the floor. I let out a cry of shock, and hit the ground with about as much grace as a fish floundering on land.

"You, little girl!" the newcomer bellowed at me. "Stay the _fuck_ down if you know what's good for you!" I raised a brow at his harsh words, but evidently he wasn't very good at being scary, as his voice cracked at right around the "what" of his sentence. By the time I recovered enough to try to retaliate with a smart remark, he'd already turned his attention to the cashier. He pushed his hand into one of his hoodie's pockets. "You! Bitch with the dumb hair! Gimme all the money in the machine, on the pronto!"

"Like hell I will!" bit back the cashier's miffed reply. "Who the hell do you think you are?!"

"Fine, be that way," he shot back. He withdrew his hand from his pocket, pulling out a large, black pistol with a small trigger and trigger guard, a slim frame, and straight, pronounced rubber grips on the sides, and pointed it at the cashier, clicking the hammer back into a cocked position. "Does _this_ make you feel like helping me out, doll?" There was a slight tremor to his voice, belying a certain nervousness fueling his actions.

Oh no. That's not good.

"Oh God, okay, just please don't shoot." The cashier hurriedly complied, shakily snatching notes out of the register and handing them to the robber, who let out a breath of relief when he thought the attendant wasn't looking. Okay, that was _not_ going to go down while I was here. I mean, I did it before, just to get into Beacon, how hard could it be?

"Hey!" I yelled at the guy, standing up and hoping to get his attention off of the woman. I got it, all right.

"Oh shit!" he yelped, startled, evidently, by me. He fumbled with his gun, awkwardly pointing it at me. Evidently the weapon had a hair trigger, because as his nerves were absolutely shot, he loosed a round and shot me in the forehead.

 _BANG!_

A heavy bullet smashed into my head, imparting its force into throwing my skull so hard backwards that it nearly gave me whiplash just thinking about it. If I had been a little weaker, I'd've been done for, easy, right on the spot. However, my Aura was _just_ strong enough to stop the bullet before it could do my brains in. My balance was off, and I was knocked off my feet, beginning a fall to the floor.

"Oh crap oh crap oh crap!" I heard the gunman panic, but I didn't have time to pay attention to his rambling. Right until the last moment as my feet started to leave the ground, I kicked off as hard as I could, propelling myself into a clean backflip and letting me kick the gun out of his hands in the process. I landed in a perfect three-point landing, gazing up at the look of shock that adorned the guy's face as he nursed his wrist and his gun clattered to the floor. His eyes flicked back and forth for a second between me and the gun on the ground, as if weighing his options.

I didn't give him the chance. I rushed him in a clumsy tackle, feeling the wind escape his lungs from the force of my offensive. We crashed to the ground in a clumsy, flailing pile of limbs until I ultimately came out on top. He stared up at me, eyes full of fear, until I ended the fight.

By taking a page out of my sister's book.

And punching him in the head.

He dropped like a stone and fell unconscious, tongue lolling out of his mouth like a dog's. I felt my forehead where I'd been shot, and touched a trickle of blood, surrounded by the beginnings of a nasty bruise. I drew in a couple of deep breaths before rising to my full (admittedly not very tall) height, and looked back at the cashier.

She stared back at me, eyes widened and jaw agape. I reached over and collected what I'd bought in a bag, and retrieved my change.

The cashier was still staring at me as I fled from the store, returning myself to the frigid air and munching on the donut as I did.

* * *

 **AN: This one's a short one, but it's kinda necessary for me to do, since some people need to figure out that neither I, nor this story, are dead. Yet. It's not my proudest piece of fiction, but I hope it does well enough. I'll see you guys later. For now, I think I'll get to working on _Steven's Huntress_ next. **

**Just a reminder though, that the reviews section is for Comments and Criticism. I want to become a better writer, and critics are a good way to improve, so long as they're not assholes. If you leave a question in a guest review, I won't be able to answer it. If you have a question that needs answering, log in and post a review, or PM me.**

 **Thanks!**

 **-AnonymousInsomnia**


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